


A Stiff Situation

by adelindschade



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Modern AU, new girl inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelindschade/pseuds/adelindschade
Summary: Inspired by the scene where Schmidt broke his dick, I was prompted to write a similar scene between out two favorite enemies-to-lovers in a modern element.
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	A Stiff Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Script only slightly tweaked - just because the two couples have so much in common, that they can be interchanged! Enjoy! There may be more to come!

He wished he had opened his eyes when Anthony heard the very sharp click of the door handle turn. He would’ve anticipated who if he only spied sooner the figure crossing the panel of glass. Unfortunately, he prided his lids open too late, and he went rigid with the worst kind of anxiety.

Don’t be his brother. Don’t be his brother.

A fitted jogger suit came into view. Slimming. Stunning.

A curtain of hair wisped from shoulder to shoulder – long and dark and tied up into a ponytail, like a perfect waterfall.

_Thank God._

_Kate._

“Oh my God!”

He couldn’t help himself. It was a guttural reaction.

The groan was much louder than he anticipated, prompting her to pause under the arch with the most perplexed expression.

It was kind of cute, especially when no words came out of her mouth despite it being ajar.

“Are you serious right now?” He exasperated.

She blinked.

He continued before she could interject, more so to acquit himself than anything.

“How is it you still look this good under fluorescent lights?”

“I’m so, so sorry,” she began to pour out, a mix of panic and remorse. It didn’t suit her, he thought with furrowed brows. That wasn’t his Kate.

She had all but pushed the rolling divider that separated them to the wall in her haste to meet his side. “This is all my fault!”

Just as she took in his bedridden form cloaked with an unbecoming hospital gown, her big brown eyes descended to the cast of shame. The brazen baby blue ice pack atop it was another insult. He tried to suppress a wince as she herself paused mid-sentence.

“I thought-” she had just begun before her eyes settled. Her face contorted into heavy confusion. “What happened?” She asked, more sternly than before.

“Yeah,” he stammered, unable to form words. He had yet to master a reply despite having all morning to formulate _something._ He swallowed but it sounded by a grunt. “Um,” he prolonged, “here’s the thing… Um, this is embarrassing…”

The words were evading him and looking up at her inquisitive expression did little to help. God, how was it she looked this good, this cute, and also simultaneously this gorgeous all at once after jogging in summer heat?

He tried to talk with his hands, palm out but even then, his message fell flat. She was not impressed and hiked a brow. His lips were reluctantly to take over.

“I broke my penis.”

Really, the placement of the cast should have implied as much.

Honestly, the woman was designed to torture him. Both physical and mentally. First, she broke it, and now she was making him voice it aloud. He felt humiliated. And also, oddly beguiled. It should be a badge of honor for someone to ride a dick so hard for it to break.

And she hadn’t even been there to witness the aftermath.

He thought it was a mere cramp. They took a break. She didn’t press the matter further. They slept it off. She left the bed early for her ritual morning jog – how the woman had energy left was beyond his comprehension. The moment he rose, as did his dick, he felt the agony that came – _no pun intended_ – and no sooner did it begin, he foolishly called Benedict to assist him to the nearest hospital since he didn’t want Kate to see him in such disarray.

“You… what…?”

Dear God, she was going to make him repeat it! As if neither believed it in the first place.

“I broke my penis,” he stated more clearly, agitated with the whole fiasco. Why was he placating her part in this? He wasn’t the one that purposely bent it at an unnatural angle!

“Things were just out of control last night,” he explained – even though she was there! Her memory was just as fresh as his! He shouldn’t be the one doing the talking!

“And there was like, this one moment, where it was just…” he rambled both in words and ambiguous hands signs, “I woke up this morning with blinding pain; another moment I was watching myself, remembering last night. I think I finally understand what the tree of life is about.”

She was huffing, looking up and around, just as finished with the situation as he was. That was the Kate he knew – the sarcastic, expressive, and glowing woman he knew and loved. It was an art she could still look so radiant under just unflattering light and miffed with frustration.

“I can’t be certain of this but I’m almost positive your vagina contains a right angle,” he dared to speak into existence, looking at her dead in the eyes.

Anthony was not above Vagina-Blaming.

“I’m leaving,” she declared with a glare. Her arms crossed – damn her – unintentionally lifting the national treasures he considered her breasts. “I can’t believe I came-”

He was speaking over her in protest.

She was leaving. Her back was to him.

“ _How are you upset right now?_ ”

God – he knew he was in for it given the velocity of her ponytail when it swung back to the other shoulder. Her eyes bore into his, lips curled into a scowl.

“Kate, you did this! What do you want from me?

“I didn’t think this would happen! I don’t want this to be a thing…” she waved between them. He nearly lurched forward; brow raised in disbelief as a swell of reactionary rage began to bubble.

Only, he realized, while Kate’s eyes were on him, she kept gesturing to his castor-padded shaft. She deflated and her voice softened uncharacteristically. “Because” she exhaled, “I like you. A lot. ”

Her head shook, distracted by the tacky tile pattern underneath them. She was comprehending her own words. A betraying smile fixed itself onto her lovely features, however brief it may have been. He saw it – it was there – even if she masked it with a stern line no sooner did it appear. “I can’t just always say what I feel…. It’s just, whatever, Anthony.”

She hid her expressive eyes by looking sideways, purposely avoiding the connection between them. Her words were weak and her posture anxious, shifting from one foot to the another. Always moving, he thought fondly. His Kate was never one to stay still.

“You like me,” he repeated with an unapologetic grin. She loved him. Her loved her. They both knew it. Yet, neither were willing to speak it first. Fortunately, both were happy to set such a slight aside, knowing the truth between them, no matter if silent.

Was it he who made the first move? Likely. Or Kate – she was spontaneous like that.

Either way, he wasn’t complaining when their lips met and skipped passed the gentle delicacies that usually came after a quarrel. Mouth open and tongues in happy collusion, Anthony was quite pleased to revisit where they had last left.

Her hair was just as perfect and silky as he remembered when it wrapped it around his hand and pulled her deeper into their . Her hand on his chest for purchase, striking an electric sensation within him.

A crack disrupted the ambience of the lover’s reunion. A loud, unsettling stiff crack and then the jolting, sharp pain that followed within seconds. Blinding, burning, terrible pain!

He hadn’t even registered how hard her pushed her away but he registered the volume of their combined shouts as he jolted upwards, rigid as humanly possible. His eyes squeezed shut, still processing the intense discomfort that was as sharp as the first.

The pained whine that escaped his throat was too embarrassing for him to admit. Thank the Heaven’s she was the only one to bear witness to such an emasculate scene. She was nearly as rigid as he, coiled defensively in surprise when she took him in.

His voice cracked in between the segment of uncharacteristically high-pitched agony, verifying his worst reality.

His hand slapped the uncomfortable hospital bed in protest simultaneously as she apprehensively poached the question “what happened?”

It was his turn to look away, averting his face to the uninhabited side of the room, and his eyes remained squeezed shut for dear life. His knees were arched and his hands curled into the plastic sheets beneath him.

“Oh my God, _why?_ ” he protested, regaining some edge in his voice.

Her hands were up in the air as if surrendering. Her eyes scanned over his form, unsure of what to do next.

“ _Oh!_ ” he fumbled. His hand jetted out and then returned to his hair, combing his back while his body arched instinctively. The pain reverberated and all he could muster was wide, panicked eyes and mouth agape, hoping no more unsettling sounds flushed out.

“Uh…” she chewed over, “what…?”

Her hands crossed and then one rose to her lips for her to anxiously bite at an immaculately polished nail. Then another until both hands concealed her mouth but her eyes were vivid with shock and worry.

“Oh my God, my penis is having a heart attack,” he grumbled back. His hand propelled outwards, halting her from coming closer. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! You got to get out of here!”

“Alright,” she fluttered about, slow to turn back around. Both of her hands reciprocated the gesture, as if to hold herself at bay until her feet could shuffle the other direction. Purse – where’s her purse? Big, black purse – can’t miss it– ah! There!

He wasn’t sure what words he was trying to verbalize. It was all a stuttered mess until she began to bend down to grab her oversized bag near the door.

Then his reaction was visceral.

“ _Don’t bend over!_ ”

She nearly jumped out of her skin and looked at him, aghast.

“For crying out loud,” he lamented, averting his eyes to the ceiling. “Are you nuts?” He tried his best to blink the image away. Her pert little ass – not really, not little – ugh, forget it! But he couldn’t!

Thankfully, her hefty purse consumed the upper half of her body, concealing her blessed breasts.

“I’m sorry,” he cracked apologetically. His eyes were pleading. “It’s the yoga pants!”

She was awkwardly shifting from the room to the hallway, weaving in and out as she scrambled to retreat.

“I’m sorry for this,” she rushed out the words until her entire body was outside his room. Still, her head poked through, and then pass by the glass where her words were still quite clear. “I like you!” she tried to end on a good note, offering a smile through the pane.

“I like you, too, so much,” he assured, however gravel and pain he sounded. She was still peeking through the glass, optimistic and glowing and loving…

“Call a nurse!” he pleaded aloud, leaning outwards to project his voice. “A _male_ nurse! Probably a heavy-set male nurse would be nice!”

She was contorting her body awkwardly to muster a wave, not quite ready to depart. The bag was still in her arms, obstructing her chest. God Bless her. He never thought he’d say such a thing regarding her heavenly bosom but now was not the time.

“ _Bye_ ,” her muffled voice sang sweetly from afar.

He was lurching more outwardly now, to the point of yelling.

“Describe it to them as like uh… as uh…battered highway cone!” He pushed out hurriedly once she was out of frame.

He leaned back, eyes squeezed and body tight. He winced multiple times in a row. He uttered another unbecoming groan, flinching as he verbalized just sounds of peak discomfort.


End file.
